


Jingle Jingle

by ifonenight



Series: Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Christmas Themed, D/s, Dom Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pet Names, Puppy Play, Sub Sam Winchester, collar and leash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonenight/pseuds/ifonenight
Summary: "Sam almost barks, but that would be too much, maybe. He doesn’t know. His thoughts are really not that rational right now."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotor/gifts).



> For [lotor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lotor/profile), who requested wincest puppy play with pup!Sam and sweet pet names.
> 
> [[Send me a prompt!](http://buckybee.tumblr.com/post/149888846999/prompts-open)]

Sam has a red collar fastened around his neck, with little bells dangling in the front, a soft tail attacked to a plug in his ass, and a dick hard as a rock.

“Gonna be a good boy for me, Sammy?” Dean says, smirking down at the man kneeling at his feet. “Better be, or you won’t get your Christmas present.”  
Sam doesn’t answer, just moves his hips a little, to make the tail shake in an imitation of an excited pup.

He keeps his tongue out, staring up at Dean, panting and eager and so, so aroused, almost dizzy with want.

Dean reaches down to rub a thumb on his lips, pushing his mouth wide open, and Sam chases his fingers with his tongue and teeth, lapping and nibbling at them playfully.  
Dean whistles sharply and Sam stops, chastised.

“Look what you did, slobbering all over my hand.”

Sam almost barks, but that would be too much, maybe. He doesn’t know. His thoughts are not really that rational right now.

Dean dries his hand on his own pants, uncaring, and threads his fingers through Sam’s hair. He scratches at his scalp and Sam pushes into his touch, nudging Dean’s arm with his nose and leaving little licks on his wrist.  
Dean’s quiet, rumbling laugh makes him shiver.

It’s so liberating, playing like this, free of responsibilities and worries and shame. It had taken some time for him to let go, to let himself enjoy his role - he was too self-conscious, too embarrassed - but Dean had been so patient, coaxing him further and further in the right headspace with firm touches and gentle words and proud praises. It had been like being high, but on something good, on something sane, on something _loving_. God, he feels so loved.

Something clicks near his throat, and he lowers his eyes to see Dean clasping a red leash on the ring of his collar.  
Sam could come right here right now. He holds back only by sheer determination.

Dean smiles at him, and he pets his head again, ruffling his hair and playing with his ears. Sam pants and wiggles his ass, and his dick brushes Dean’s clothed leg. He whimpers and settles back, trying not to chase the sensation.

“Good, Sammy, good boy,” Dean murmurs, stroking down his neck and shoulder and then up again on his cheeks and nape. Sam rubs himself against Dean’s palms, warming up at the praises, excited and safe and happy.

Dean finally steps back, only to tug on the leash, pointing the bed with a smirk.

“Up on the bed, pup.”

The bells chime quietly when Sam lowers on his hands and knees and crawls toward the bed, swaying his hips and feeling the tail gently slapping his tights.  
He hears Dean’s sharp intake of breath and grins, climbing up the mattress and flopping down, turning his head to look at his brother.

Dean’s eyes are dark, and Sam has to stifle down a moan when Dean stalks toward him. Ready to devour.

Dean is on him in a moment, hands everywhere, rearranging Sam as he pleases. He sits down on the bed, against the headboard, and pulls Sam in his lap, skin against denim, a delicious friction.

“Undress me, sweetheart,” he says, voice heavy with want, and Sam reaches out with his hands only to have them slapped away.

“Pups can’t use paws to do stuff like this,” Dean reprimands gently, and Sam frowns at him quizzically before it clicks. He bites his lips, looking at Dean’s t-shirt and pants and shoes.

“Don’t worry about the shirt and the shoes, Sammy, I’ll take care of them. You work with the pants.”

Sam nods and slides down until his face is just inches from Dean’s crotch. He nuzzles the hard line of Dean’s dick, hidden under the jeans, but he moves before Dean can push him away, and grabs instead the slider of the zip with his teeth.

He tugs at the slider, trying to angle it the right way, and after a moment it gives in and slips down the zipper. Sam makes sure to open it all the way before moving up, brushing Dean’s bare cock with his mouth and chin. He hears a muffled moan somewhere over him and he grins without looking up.

The button is a little harder, but he tongues at it with determination until it shifts through the eyelet and the pants fall open. He grasps the waistband and pulls, dragging them down until he meets resistance. He does the same on the other side and again and again until the jeans are tangled around his bother’s ankles, stopped by his shoes.

When he looks up, he meets Dean’s eyes, fixed on him, hungry and awed and he feels his heart swell and his cock throb.

“Such a good pup, Sammy, so good,” Dean murmurs, and Sam whines when Dean moves from under him to throw his legs off the bed. 

“It’s just to take off the rest, sweetheart, won’t make you wait too long,” Dean winks, and Sam settles down, watching Dean’s skin appear gradually when his brother bows down to remove his clothes - freckled back, strong shoulders, toned legs, all the hard edges of his body and the softer lines of his stomach. Sam loves them all. 

When Dean turns fully toward him, Sam’s gaze travels down his body, slowly sliding between his tights and following the length of his cock, hard and flushed against his pale flesh.

“Something you like, pup?” 

Sam eyes snap back to Dean’s face, to find him smirking.  
“Don’t worry, you’ll have your treat soon enough,” Dean grins, leaning against the bedrest and beckoning him closer with a finger. Sam crawls over him, flopping down on his legs so that their cocks are _almost_ close enough to touch.

Dean pushes one hand in his hair and tugs him down, kissing him all hungry and voracious. Sam whines in his mouth when their dicks accidentally rub together, can’t resisting thrusting his hips against Dean’s, who breaks off the kiss to slap his ass once, hard and sharp. “Be good, pup, you’re so close to get your present.”

Sam settles down, lowering his head and looking at Dean through his eyelashes.

“The puppy eyes are real appropriate now, Sammy,” Dean huffs, but he’s smiling.

He skims his hands on Sam’s sides, rubbing up and down for a few moments, and Sam relishes in the warmth.  
But then Dean’s right hand follows the path of his muscles, the curve of his ass, down down down, until he can grasp the tail and gently pull on it. Sam gasps and moans when Dean starts fucking him with the plug, breath humid against the skin of Dean’s neck, leaving little, open-mouth kisses wherever he can reach.

“You still up for more, sweetheart?” Dean asks, low and rumbling in Sam’s ear. Sam nods desperately, and Dean kisses him and removes the tail, suffocating Sam’s whimpers in his mouth.

Sam has to force himself to stay still, not to jerk against Dean for friction, even more when Dean twists to grab the lube from the bedside table and pushes his hips up to meet Sam’s, and Sam isn’t totally convinced that the gesture was innocent.

Dean’s smirk is a confirmation in itself.

Dean fingers him slowly, two fingers at a time since Sam is already so wet and loose, but he is unhurried, teasing him, removing his hand whenever Sam makes an aborted push back, circling his rim and giving him only the tips.

Sam kind of wants to pin him down and take what he likes and kind of wishes for this sweet, sweet torture to last forever, and so he compromises by enduring it until Dean is satisfied, gritting his teeth against his brother’s shoulder when all the fingers disappear and don’t come back.

“You’ve been so good, Sammy,” Dean murmurs to an angle of Sam’s mouth, “my eager pup, how long I made you wait.”

The words should feel taunting, but they don’t, not at all. Sam soaks up the praises like rain on a hot summer day.

“Do you want your present, now?” Dean asks, and Sam shakes his hips like the tail was still there. The bells jingle with him, bright and joyful.

Dean’s ruffles his hair and smiles down at him, a tender curl of lips that inescapably urges Sam to give him a big lick on the cheek.

“Sam! No!” Dean exclaims, pushing his head away, but he’s laughing, and Sam grins down at him, burrowing himself deeper in Dean’s arms.

“I shouldn’t let you come just for this, tonight,” Dean muses, drying his face with an angle of the sheet. Sam tenses up, side-glancing him, but Dean just shakes his head, amused at his sudden nervousness.

“I could never punish your kisses,” he says, closing an hand against Sam’s collar and tugging him closer, worrying Sam’s lower lip with his teeth until Sam groans.

“Rise you hips, sweetheart,” Dean says once he’s taken mercy on Sam and released him, and Sam does, hovering on Dean’s flushed cock while Dean covers it in lube.

Dean grabs himself with the wet hand and Sam’s side with the other, guiding him down on his dick, and they both gasp when Dean finally enters him.

Sam groans, long and loud, grabbing at the air wildly. Dean catches one of his wandering hands and holds it tight in his own.

“Come on, pup,” Dean says, teasing Sam’s cock with light touches. “You’ve got your present, now use it.”

Sam’s breath is already labored when pushes himself up and down, rolling his hips once he gets to the base again, grinding against Dean’s pelvis. Dean’s deep moans and his own quiet shouts fill the room, making music with the bells that are chiming wildly now.

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, grabbing one of his asscheek with his free hand, spreading him, rubbing Sam’s rim where it meets his dick, “like this,” and Sam clutches at his fingers, tights burning and heart thundering and pleasure exploding everywhere, and there’s almost no room to breath.

It’s easy to find a rhythm after so many years together, a familiar dance that never gets old, and they’re staring into each other eyes when they come, through heavy eyelids and blown pupils and hushed _i love yous_. Dean doesn’t reprimand him for talking, then, never does, and the orgasm seems to go on forever, and Sam gets lost and high on the sensation.

After, they settle on the bed, tangled together, once Dean has cleaned them up and made Sam drink something, never leaving his side for more than a few seconds.

Sam is resting against his brother’s chest, feet almost out of the mattress, collar still on - but Dean removed the leash and the bells. It’s peaceful and warm, safe in this little cocoon of bliss. Floating is easy and is exquisite.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asks after a while, massaging his scalp, careful of hidden knots in his hair.

“Mmmrrr,” Sam answers, lazily stretching like after a long, satisfying nap, “awesome.”

“No embarrassment?” Dean pushes, digging gently in his neck and shoulders. “No irrational and totally unnecessary shame?”

Truth to be told, Sam is feeling great.  
He knows that, maybe, tomorrow he will blush scarlet, hit by flashes of their scene, and won’t manage to look at himself in the mirror, but he can recognize the signs by now and talk himself out of it, or go to Dean and let himself being reassured that he’s good and amazing and what he likes is absolutely fine, because, _you like logic, Sam, and think about it: are you hurting anyone? No. So why should it be bad?_ and now there’s pizza waiting from them, with a veggie top because Sam has absolute veto on anything right now, and they’re going to watch whatever Sam wants and cuddle on the bed and he’s just had mind-blowing sex and yes, he’s feeling, once hundred percent, fucking awesome.

He grins up at Dean and pushes himself closer. “I’m great,” he says, and gets kissed for it, and everything in the whole world, at least for now, feels right.


End file.
